Mnemosyne
by Maenad
Summary: Hermione and Snape are forced to work together, but more than a potion comes out of this crucible.


Mnemosyne  
  
by Maenad  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Characters are the creation of J.K. Rowling. I just make them jump through hoops.  
  
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Chapter 1  
  
  
  
  
Potions...  
  
The Gryffindors milled around outside the dungeon classroom, waiting to be let in, even though it was five minutes after the lesson was due to start. Normally, they would have just made their way in and sat down at the benches, getting out their books and equipment in preparation, but today there was a large notice on the door, with NO ADMITTANCE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE written on it in Snape's spidery handwriting.  
  
Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley stood not far from the door, in a little huddle that somehow set them apart from the rest of the class. While they were surrounded on all sides by their classmates, their attention was solely on each other, and they ignored the catcalls and the gossip thrown around by the others.  
  
"So, do you think this means that class is off, Hermione?"  
  
"No Harry, it can't be. Snape was at breakfast as usual, and if he was well enough to do that he's certainly capable of teaching."  
  
"Or at least as capable as he usually is," said Ron. "I doubt that Neville has learned much during the seven years we've had Potions, and that's definitely not his fault."  
  
"So, do you want us to make a distraction like we did in the second year while you get the griffin's claw from Snape's office, Herm?"  
  
"Better not do the same thing Harry. Snape noticed that items had gone missing, remember, and he knew what made his back turn that time, even if he can't prove anything. Perhaps he won't remember - it has been five years, after all - but I don't want to take the chance."  
  
"OK, Herm, we'll think of something else this time. I don't know what, but I'm sure that something will come up."  
  
Just then the door slammed open, and the Potions Master emerged from the classroom with his arms folded and a face that spoke portents of doom. No longer towering over the Gryffindors - they were no longer children after all - his presence was as intimidating as ever, and more than one of them cringed. He swung his gaze to the trio, who were just off to one side, and fixed Ron with a glare.  
  
"Perhaps you have an explanation for this, Mr Weasley?" he said. The words were no louder than usual, but the force of their delivery made Ron step back.  
  
"Sir? I'm not sure I understand the question," he replied nervously.  
  
"Five points from Gryffindor for your density, Mr Weasley!" the teacher snapped. He was obviously furious beyond measure. He shifted his gaze to Hermione, who felt as if she had locked eyes with a cobra. "Perhaps you can explain, Miss Granger. Why are you not at your desks?"  
  
The question was so unexpected that Hermione blinked. Speaking slowly because of her confusion, she pointed at the door and said "Because you left that message for us, sir."  
  
Snape twisted round to look at the door. Seeing the notice, he did a double-take, tore it down and examined it closely. His temper deflated gradually, like a slow puncture. Closing his eyes, he gripped the bridge of his nose tightly between thumb and forefinger. "Fine," he murmured to himself. Behind him, the Gryffindors didn't dare move a muscle.   
  
Turning back to them, the Potions Master surveyed them with a cold expression. Seeing nothing to which he could take offence, he merely raised his arm and pointed into the classroom. Moving swiftly, the students entered without a word. When they had sat down at their benches and set out their equipment, Snape stepped to the front of the classroom and began.  
  
"Memory. One of the least understood of the brain's functions, and by far the hardest to control, whether via potions, charms, or any other brand of magic. The Obliviate curse is widely known, but understood only in the vaguest of terms. It is slightly more controllable than knocking someone on the head with a club, as it does no physical damage whatsoever, but that is as far as it goes.  
  
"However, there are other, less well-known methods by which the memory can be affected. There is the Memoria Everto hex, designed to blank out memories until ten minutes after the event has occurred, and the Immemor potion, which causes amnesia, to name but two.  
  
"As some of you may have heard in the Daily Prophet, memory is an important topic for all wizards at the moment. Mr Weasley, can you redeem yourself and tell us why?"  
  
Ron took a deep breath. "Isn't there a type of 'flu that is affecting the memory?"  
  
"Correct, but incomplete. Can anyone continue?"  
  
The topic had been speculated on for some time in the Gryffindor common room, but no-one knew much more than Ron - except for one person. The usual one, who stuck her hand right up in the air, a habit that, at eighteen, she still had not outgrown.  
  
Snape sighed. "Enlighten us once again with your brilliance, Miss Granger," he drawled.   
  
"Well sir, there's an epidemic at the moment, caused by an unknown factor, but one that only affects the magical populace. It is directly tied to magic, as Muggle-borns have been affected, but Squibs have not. It begins with occasional lapses of memory, a state that lasts approximately three months, although the forgetfulness increases in frequency over that period. This is followed by a crisis that manifests itself like a severe case of influenza - headaches, fever, colds and extreme fatigue. When the crisis finishes, the victim is left in perfect physical health, but with no memory at all. There is no known prevention, and there is no cure."  
  
"Correct, Miss Granger. Five points for Gryffindor." The class stirred a little at this, but Snape's earlier fury, and the severity of the epidemic held them quiet. Snape continued.  
  
"Because of the virulence of this disease and the damage it causes, the Ministry is asking all those who work with potions to try and find a cure. It is estimated that, if a cure is not found within one year, one quarter of the wizarding population will have suffered total memory loss."  
  
This news caused such an uproar in the dungeon that had never before been imagined. Harry, Hermione and Ron looked at each other in shock, their faces pale and their eyes wide. Parvati and Laveder were nearly hysterical, an deven Seamus and dean, normally unflappable, could be heard panicking.  
  
"Silence!" shouted Professor Snape, cutting through the noise. Gradually the students settled down, but Lavender's sobs could still be heard, although they were quieter now. "Do stop that snivelling Miss Brown, or I will have to take points off Gryffindor. Crying won't make things any better."  
  
"Now, you should all know by now how to make a standard memory restoral potion, which counteracts Obliviate. You are going to practise this today to refresh your memories, then go on to study the Immemor and other such potions in further lessons. Your assignment is to study the functions and purposes of each ingredient and how they combine to produce the intended effect.  
  
"This is not the sort of work I would usually assign to seventh-year students, as the subject is not one that has a definite answer. It is not a subject that has been studied in depth by many Potions Masters in the past. However, the demands of the current crisis make this absolutely necessary. Therefore I am going to give you permission to..speculate." His lip curled on this last word, as if disgusted at having to let it pass through.  
  
"Now get out the ingredients from the cupboards and begin your work."  
  
The students worked in silence for the main, the only exceptions being short phrases that were required for the potion, such as "Will you chop this forget-me-not root please.". The atmosphere in the dungeon seemed colder than ever, as the news hung like a cloud over all of them. The intimidating presence of Snape had a greater effect than ever, and as he moved around the classroom inspecting their potions, the students shrunk away from him.  
  
Hermione worked in silence, trying to take in the news. As she crushed her lacewings in an elephant ivory mortar and pestle, thoughts of memory-related spells and magic ran around in her head. She had witnessed Obliviate being performed before and had heard what Ron and Harry had told her regarding Lockhart's use of it. She had heard Harry's description of Dumbledore's pensieve, and had seen something that resembled one in Professor McGonagall's office. The connections between magic and memory were not new to her, but they disturbed her as nothing else in the wizarding world did. Her mind flew back in time to when she was six, and was on holiday with her grandmother while her parents attended a dentistry convention. Her grandmother had been a lively, outgoing sixty-five year old, who had delighted the young Hermione by telling stories of her youth, and what she had done during her time at Bletchly during the Second World War. However, she had developed Alzheimer's when Hermione was ten, and had gradually gone from the most brilliant lady Hermione knew, through absent-mindedness which increased in severity to the point where, now, she had been petrified of Hermione when she had visited her grandmother at her nursing home. She had even thrown a bowl of food at her, in spite of the efforts made by the nurse who had been spoon-feeding her to prevent it.  
  
A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. "Miss Granger," spoke a smooth baritone voice into her ear. She turned around quickly.  
  
"Yes, P...Professor Snape?" she stuttered, startled by not hearing his approach. He reached past her, brusshing her shoulder, and picked up the mortar she had been using. He looked into it and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Lacewings do not need ten minutes of crushing, Miss Granger.The...dust you have in here is more than sufficient."  
  
Looking into the mortar, Hermione had to agree with him. The dust which had previously been ten dried lacewings was as fine as talcum powder.  
  
"I guess I overdid it a little, sir," she said, lowering her eyes.  
  
"Indeed," replied the professor. "I suggest that you catch up with your classmates, and come and see me after the lesson." He turned away.  
  
"Now you're for it," hissed Ron into her ear.  
  
"As will you be, Mr Weasley, if you don't get on with your work," snapped Snape, without turning round. Ron gulped, and shrank back into his seat.  
  
Hermione fixed her concentration onto her potion and managed to catch up with the rest of the class. Shoving the memories away, she still managed to make the most effective potion in the class, much to her relief. She wasn't going to give Snape any more fuel for the invective he was surely going to heap on her after class. 


End file.
